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“Was that real? Or am I dreaming? Was it a nightmare?” I asked.
“Ummm, that was real,” Gina replied.
I adjusted my head on my pillow behind me. Gina lay next to me, wearing a black T-shirt with a dragonfly, butterfly, and ladybug sitting atop a martini glass, smoking cigarettes. “I’ve never felt so low,” I whispered.
Gina sat up and crossed her legs. Her combat boots dug into my designer comforter.
“The sneaker.” Gina’s lip curled up. “That’s when I lost it.”
“Lost it how?”
Gina cackled so hard that tears fell. She stomped her black boot into my beige bed as she howled. “Sorry.” She snorted.
“How nice to know when we’re going through hard times, our loved ones on the other side are laughing at us. How comforting.” I massaged my aching temples.
“That’s not true at all.”
“Well, you’re cracking up over here.”
“Just because it’s you, Jada.”
“It’s not funny. I’ve hurt a lot of people.”
“They’re going to be okay. Yes, you shared some stuff that was pretty personal, revealed some private health information, but in the end, it’ll be okay.”
“My son?”
“Ethan was oblivious. And he’s Ethan, remember? It means strong. That’s why you liked that name.”
“And I made a fool of myself. I can never show my face at Long Island at Play, or to anyone I know or am related to, for the rest of my life. Should I move to another state?”
“Well, you are selling the house.”
“Not funny. Aren’t you supposed to be helping me? You’re not making me feel better.” I shut my eyes. “I don’t get it. I thought I was making progress. I wasn’t thinking about Todd. I had the difficult conversation with Mark. I was appeasing my mother... at times. I was working on my Lionel trigger. But then, it all hit me at once.”
“Progress is a lot of stops and starts.” I could feel her rest her head on the pillow next to mine. “You still have a bit to learn.”
I opened one eye. “When do I get my diploma?”
“Ha! When you die.”
I closed my eye. “What a sobering thought.”
“Well, you’ve got to be strong. Okay? Because it ain’t over.”
I opened my eyes.
“I don’t think that last exchange with Lionel went over so well. You know, from what I can see,” she said.
I shut my eyes. “Fuck.”
“I know it’s not what you want to hear.”
“What can you tell me? Never mind. I don’t want to hear it right now.” Fuck. On top of everything else. “Is this really happening? Can’t you do some voodoo mind trick and wipe everyone’s memory? Lionel, Dan, everyone I know and love?”
“Nope. Sorry. Did you see Melody’s face?” She started laughing again.
“Only when I caught her snicker.”
“I’m talking about when you threw up in the wrapping paper bag. The first time. I guess you couldn’t see her face because your head was down. Trust me—it was priceless.”
“Trust me—I’m glad I didn’t see.”
“Let me tell ya, as Grandma and Grandpa would say, it was a Kodak moment.”
That made me laugh a little, which was a temporary relief. “The whole thing is so awful. And how the hell am I going to fix it or make up for it, even a little?”
“You’ll know what to do next,” she said.
“Trust my instincts and all that crap?” I rubbed my eyes. “Can you give me some specifics of what I should do? Give me another assignment. I’ll do whatever I have to do to make it right.”
“Okay. Start with restraining yourself. And I mean restraining yourself for real. Not restraining when it’s easy and you pat yourself on the back. Restraining when it’s hard. When your emotions have gotten the best of you and you feel every reason to lash out, certain that you’re in the right. You’re not always in the right, Jada. Stop. Let it go. And watch yourself grow.”
“Ugh, first of all, ‘Let it go’ is the most annoying, useless piece of advice, next to ‘Enjoy the moment.’ And I’m not a flower. You can’t just water me with platitudes and watch me sprout.”
“Yes, actually, I can. It’s sinking into your subconscious whether you like it or not.”
“You know, I like our visits better when we eat ice cream and talk about old times.”
Gina reached over to Mark’s nightstand. “How about some dark chocolate?” She opened the wrapper on my favorite kind and broke off a piece. “Remember the time my father stepped in dog shit at some fair? Our mothers tried to clean it off, but he had to sit in the passenger’s seat the whole way home with his foot out the window.” Gina handed me a chunk of chocolate.
I bit down. “My mother kept saying, ‘Stepping in shit is good luck. Why didn’t we win anything?’”
“And we couldn’t stop laughing every time they said ‘shit.’ They kept trying to say crap and kept slipping.”
“Those were good times,” I said.
“When you’re here, you realize everything—even the shit—were good times. When you’re living, you take it all too seriously.”
“I can guarantee you I will never look back on this day and think it was ‘good times.’”
“As you evolve, you’ll be able to look back at this time and understand why it happened, and as you learn to love yourself, you’ll even be able to look back and not cringe.”
“I doubt it.”
“I promise you.”
“Evolve. Grow. Love yourself,” I mocked. “Every visit, I wonder who you are.”
“Shut the fuck up and eat your chocolate.”
I smiled. “Still Gina.”